Voices From The Heart CoWritten with BigWTBFan
by OakHillsDrive
Summary: Have you ever heard of a connection that never ends? What would you do if you one day heard from an old love you had hoped to forget, a heartache too painful to remember? Could you get past it or would you try to find your way to love again?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

A tear fell on to the glossy hardwood floor as Angela leaned down to pick up her suitcase. She turned her head and quickly wiped her cheek to remove any evidence of her cowardice. The pain in her chest was making it hard to breathe and she knew that if she didn't put on a brave face now, she couldn't live with the thought of seeing him cry too. After all this time, when she cried, he cried. And the idea of seeing tears in his eyes was more than she could bare. Taking the handles of two of her suitcases in hand, she stood and walked to the stairwell.

Each step down them was agony. She knew he was a few strides behind her, but even now their steps were in unison. It sounded as if only one person was heading down the stairs. If it wasn't for the screaming of her heart, she would have found joy in the comparison, but now the echo of single foot steps only reminded her of the sound she'd be hearing for the rest of her life. The single sound of hers.

_You're doing this to yourself_, her heart continued to yell. _It's not too late. You can still stay. You're not in the taxi yet. Don't be an idiot!_

But the screaming of her heart was also mingled with the loneliness in her head. _Iowa's not your home, it's Tony's now. Let him go. Let him be happy. Don't let him see you cry.  
_  
As they exited the building, the taxi cab pulled up. The driver got out of the car and started to put her luggage in the trunk, leaving Tony and Angela with nothing to do but stare at the concrete beneath them. It took every ounce of strength she had not to face him. In her heart, she wanted to memorize the moment. The hue of his face, the charcoal brown of his eyes. The crows feet and laugh lines etched through years of happy moments. But the face she knew was staring at the floor with her, was not a face that would comfort her. She knew it would be the face that would engrave its way into her every waking moment to remind her every second of the biggest mistake she had ever made in her life. She knew if she looked at him now, the face would replay in her mind on those lonely nights she knew lie ahead.

"Ya ready to go, ma'am?"

Hearing a voice different than their own snapped them each of them back into the stark reality of the moment.

Finally finding the courage to look up at her, he said, "Angela, I lo. . ."

"Don't say it Tony." She said cutting him off, still staring at the ground. "Please don't make this. . ."

Before she could finish her thought, he desperately pulled her to him. Wanting to hold on to her for dear life, he lifted her head and tearfully pressed his lips to her own. Without realizing the future pain of the moment, she allowed herself to melt in his arms and give in to her moment of weakness. The familiar, safe comfort she felt in his arms was there as it had been all those times before. For a moment, the meeting of their souls seemed to block out all the noise and worry and stupid ness of the world. But as the need for oxygen pulled them apart, the small millimeter space between their lips instantly felt like a Grand Canyon rift. Before she could look in to his eyes again, she turned and ran to the cab door, jumping inside.

"What am I doing?" She said as she watched Tony's image get smaller and smaller as the taxi drove away. "I can't do this. I can't do this! Turn the car around! I have to get out!" But it seemed the more she yelled, the faster the car began to move. "Stop the car! Stop the car!" She said pounding on the window. "Stop the car! Stop the car!"

"Angela. . .Angela." Kneeling down next to her, he grabbed on to her still dreaming frame and spoke softly "Wake up, Sweet Angela."

As he pulled her into a hug, she finally awakened from her nightmare and stared into his tender hazel eyes.

"It's alright, Angela. You're here. You're safe." As she stopped shaking, he released her from their embrace and leaned on the edge of her sofa lounger for support, as he tried to get back to his feet.

"Oh my gosh. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." With the rush of adrenaline still evident in her breathing, she wiped her eyes as the dream started to fade into the darkness of the room. "I'm so sorry. I don't know what came over me," she lied, afraid he'd ask what the dream had been about.

It was the email. A reminder of the past. A ghost of guilt long buried and memories repressed. _Of all things. . . After all this time._ _Why had he sent it? Did Sam give him my address? What was he thinking?_ She thought to herself.

He turned weakly as several deep coughs exploded from his chest and she quickly came back to reality. Reaching down, she lifted the pail that sat on the floor next to the lounger and rushed to him.

"Not this time," he said waving her off. "I think its over." He said in the dim light, trying to reassure her that the nausea had past.

"Are you sure?" She said helping him over to the rented hospital bed that sat near the window. With great effort, she helped him back into bed and took the hand towel from off the nightstand and wiped his brow. "Peter. You're dripping wet. We've got to change you out of these pajamas. Let me get Hanna."

"No really, Angela. Don't wake her. I'm fine." He coughed a little more into the back of his hand. "I guess rescuing you was a little harder than expected," he said with a weak grin. "Sounds like real life, doesn't it?"

In an attempt to change the subject, she walked over to the dresser drawers and pulled out a new pajama top. "You know you need to keep up your strength, you silly man. Let me at least help you into a new top."

As she finished dressing the frail man in a fresh shirt, she patted his cheek and helped him lie down once again. Taking him in, she thought about how different he looked from that first evening all those years ago, when he had taken her out for a few glasses of milk, some sugar cookies and a shoulder to cry on. That night he had reminded her that it was okay to laugh. And here he was trying still to put a smile on her face, when he was obviously the one in need of rescuing.

"Sweet Angela, you need to get some sleep."

"I know." She dabbed his forehead one more time and leaned down and kissed it. "So do you, Partner." She said blowing imaginary smoke over her finger gun.

As she turned to lay down on the lounger again, he reached up and grabbed her fingers as they glided along the hospital bed's railing. "Was it Iowa again?"


	2. Chapter 2

He stood staring out the window. The one place he felt nearest to her. All those years before he remembered as plain as day. One of Angela's morning rituals, while she lived with him for that month was going to the living room window and watching the beautiful sunrise. Tony often stood in the background before joining her at the window. He loved watching this beautiful figure look out and seeing the early light dancing upon her golden hair.

Memories of Angela remained all around him, even after 15 years of separation. The beautiful painting he won for her in an auction remained on the wall where she first placed it when he moved to Iowa. '. . .so you can always have a piece of me,' she said as she began unpacking the rest of his belongings. He felt the double-meaning behind what she said. Her heart was his home, always had been, always would be. Ever since that first warm day in March when she left him to never return, he had never been able to move on.

Tony tried everything physically possible to put the memory of her in the back of his mind, but nothing seemed to work. He went out on dates which turned out to be horrible, or not up to his standards. He tried social dinners with colleagues he worked with at the college, even charitable benefits he had been invited to. Everything Tony tried to do to forget about Angela seemed to make him think more of her. Five years after their separation, and no communication between one another lead him to believe she had moved on. The telephone conversation between he and his daughter, Samantha, was confirmation enough to confirm his suspicions. In not so much detail, Tony found out from Samantha that Angela and her former client, Peter Gerber were talking about marriage. Tony's heart sank at this revelation and the conversation between he and his daughter ended about 2 minutes later.

The relationship between Samantha and Angela was affected as well. Although Sam loved Angela, it was no surprise to Tony that Hank and Samantha had left not even a month after Angela's return to Connecticut. In order to pursue his career, Hank relocated to California to entertain children. There were few visits and few telephone calls, but Samantha did keep in contact with her dad. Tony didn't ask and Sam did not volunteer any information concerning Angela. Either the thought of Angela was too painful or the thought of her was best left alone.

Now Tony stood at the window wondering what he could have done to change what happened fifteen years ago. Not only was the painting there to remind him, but there were many other items in his apartment that brought the memory of her to his attention. The couch where she sat and watched T.V. or knitted. The coffee cup that he purchased for her which said 'I love you' on it. Tony understood why she didn't take the cup with her and why she didn't take other various items he had purchased for her, which he thought it might have been the reason it was easier for her to move on.

With the stack of history papers sitting on his table and not being able to concentrate on them, more and more memories flooded his mind, as they did just about every night. He knew deep down there was something going on. He felt that something was not right, and he needed to know what was wrong. He wondered if something had happened to Angela. Or Mona. What about Jonathan, the young man Tony had grown to love as if he were his own son? He needed closure, but now? He couldn't understand what was going on. The only person who could help was the one person he hadn't talked to in so long.

Sitting in the chair by his computer he began typing. Words flowing through his mind and not knowing what to say. He kept telling himself, "Keep it casual, keep it casual."' With a simple 'hi' and 'how are you.' While he typed he kept seeing Angela's face, wondering how she would respond to an email from him or if she would respond at all. He was not even suppose to have Angela's address, which was due to a slip up by Sam when her baby boy was born and she sent out an email of pictures of the new baby bundle of joy. Sam usually hid the addresses, but for some reason she had forgotten. Tony had never deleted Angela's email address and now he was glad. Under usual circumstances, he would not even think about emailing her on account of their situation. Deep in his heart he knew that something was wrong and that something bad was about to happen in the near future.

It was too late. He hit the send key before he even had a chance to check for errors. He couldn't change what he had put in the email. He wasn't quite sure exactly what he had typed. He couldn't take back anything he had said. He only hoped that he hadn't said too much. The last thing he ever wanted to do was to let Angela know that he had never moved on. Maybe he didn't give too much information away after all.

The clock, which he and Angela purchased so many years ago, chimed 1:00 am. He remained at the computer staring into the black screen. He had no idea how long he sat there in between the clock chime and the sending of the email. The history papers remained on his desk, but it was too late to start grading them now. 'I'll just get up a couple hours earlier,' he thought. His first class wasn't until 10:00 AM anyway.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

"I don't know. I don't remember," she lied again. "I woke up so fast, the dream disappeared as soon as I opened my eyes."

"You're going to have to do better than that Angela. Be honest with me." He said pulling her back towards the bed. "I know you better than you think. I don't need the light on to be able to tell when your lying. I can hear it in your voice."

He shifted in bed and made a small space so she could sit next to him.

"I'm sorry, I just don't want you. . ."

"To be jealous? After twelve years together, I thought you'd know me better than that. I love you, Angela, ghosts and all."

"I guess Tony's e-mail took me by surprise. I mean, today. . . after fifteen years, I was hoping. . ."

"Hoping that he had found a way to forget? To move on?

"I guess."

"Sweet Angela, was he your friend?"

"Yes."

"Were you in love?"

"That's a stupid question."

"Then after all this time, let me give you a stupid answer. You need to accept the fact that once you love someone, **really love** someone. . . they're always going to have a place in your heart. No matter how much it hurts, no matter how guilty you feel about it or how deep you try to bury it. You're still going to have those feelings."

"But why? What's he thinking? I mean, if he wanted to talk why wasn't it a day after, a week after, even a year after? I mean, I haven't spoken to him in more than a decade and to all of sudden see "" show up in my inbox. I guess it makes you wonder what he's thinking."

"What he's feel....?"

"Don't say it, Peter. What's with you anyway? You trying to boot me out the door."

"Hey, I've been trying for the last twelve years and nothing seems to work. You keep coming back."

"Very funny."

"Listen, all I'm saying is that someday soon you might need to think about it."

"Don't go there, Peter. You know you're getting better. You're getting your color back and everything."

"Now, I know you're lying." She could see his teeth still sparkling in the dim light.

"Someday soon, you're going to have to let me go, Sweet Angela. I don't know how much longer I can do this."

"Don't say that, Peter." She rose from the bed and stood a few feet from him. "Don't even think it. I won't let you. I don't know if I could bear. . ."

"Being alone?" He paused for a moment, as he pulled the covers over his chest and closed his eyes. "Trust me, Angela, you won't be."

As she made her way back to the sofa lounger, when she was sure he was asleep, she grabbed the quilt that had fallen to the floor and laid down again. Closing her eyes, a soft flow of tears began to fall down her cheeks as the realization that soon the man who had been a part of her life for the last twelve years would soon be gone, too.

"How could life be so cruel?" She thought to herself as she wiped a few tears way. "First Daddy, then Michael, then Tony and now Peter." She was tired of thinking, tired of hurting and just plain tired. She closed her eyes again. With the rumbling of the subway train in the distance, it didn't take her long to find a peaceful place to return to.

_____________________________

March 25, 1995. She circled the date for the umpteenth time in her day planner without even thinking. She hadn't even had to acknowledge it. The day had been coming and she had been dreading it just as she had the three previous years.

"_I wonder if there will ever be a year when I can get through this day without crying."_ She said to herself, not willing to admit that she couldn't think of a day in the past three years when she hadn't cried. Three years since the day she left Iowa. Three years to the day of trying to allow herself to forget and pick up the pieces of the mistakes she was still recovering from. It had been hard with her mother's taunts and Jonathan's need to stay in contact with the only full-time father he'd ever known. She had managed to immerse herself in work to the point that the little Bower Agency was now in the "Top 35 Advertising Agencies in America," according to Advertising Age magazine. With slogans to be written, clients to be pampered, and campaigns to be scouted out, one would think that she would have little time to sulk. But she always found time.

It was funny how the rattle of the train could always find a way to jog some memory out of the past. The one hundred and seventy-eight minutes she spent riding to and from work each day should have been times to prepare for the day or relax from a stressful one. Instead, she always found a way to use them to remember. The ghost of kisses past always played in the window's reflection. Old jokes and family dinners replaying in her ears. With Jonathan living in New York and Mona now only showing up at work when she felt like it, the train ride now became a sad reminder of how alone she really was.

In recent years though, the train had also become the container of living memories as well. Several years back, her old client Peter Gerber had begun riding the train. Every once in a while they spoken for the few minutes between his getting on at the Botanical Gardens and her getting off at Grand Central Station. It was less than twenty minutes, but it had definitely cut down on her sulking time.

During their brief talks over the last few years, Angela had learned that Peter had met and married the woman of his dreams about four months after they had quit dating. Charlotte had gotten pregnant right away and they had welcomed little Anne into their home nine months later. Through the years, Angela had watched Anne grow via pictures and videos over his camera phone.

Today, as she had the last several months, she realized how she'd missed these little catch up moments. He had stopped taking the train for some reason and since they'd never had the kind of relationship that warranted a worried phone call, Angela had just dismissed his absence as a simple change in routine.

That was until she caught a glimpse of him, as he entered the compartment and took a lone seat right near the front. Right away she knew something must be wrong. He had always tried to search her out and even if there wasn't an empty seat near her, he would always wave. But today, was different and the look of despair on his face did nothing to change her opinion.

She collected her belongs and made her way to the seat next to him.

"Peter," she said trying to find a way to sound cheerful in spite of herself.

He had his head hung low and as he tried to raise it to talk to her, she noticed the glassy look in his eyes.

"Angela," he said looking down and wiping his eyes quickly.

"Well hello stranger. Where have you been lately?"

"I've been at home. . . for a while. . ." His voice drifted off as he turned to look out the window.

She knew, down in the pit of her soul, she knew something wasn't right. He was never like this. He was always joking and teasing her, like the older brother she had never had.

As his silence continued, she found a chill going down her back. _Had he been gone because something had happened to his wife and daughter?_ She thought to herself as the train jumbled along the track. Even the idea of it made her feel selfish for her own self pity.

"Peter," she tried to work up the courage to speak. "Is it Charlotte? Is it Anne?"

When he continued looking out the window, she realized that his silence had confirmed the chill.

"Is today your first day back at work?"

"Yes," he said in a simple whisper.

Angela thought back to all the times he'd offered her a kind word, a shoulder to cry on so many years ago. She realized now it was her turn to give something back.

"Well, clearly neither of us is in any shape to do a decent job at work today. I think when I get off at Grand Central you need to come with me. I think we both need a good distraction."

Slowly, he turned his head and looked up at the lights overhead. He took in a deep breath and sighed before nodding yes.


	4. Chapter 4

_How could I do that?_ He thought to himself. Barely having an hour's sleep the night before, it already being 6:30am, he decided to get up and start grading papers. The events of the night before kept running through his mind. _What if Angela sends back an email saying never to contact her again? _Not even worrying about breakfast, he sat at his desk to grab the first paper on the top of the stack. Trying to read the paper, the email lingered in the back of his mind. Luckily for him, there were only 20 papers to go and he was sure he would finish before his first class.

After grading papers for an hour and a half, he decided to fix himself a little breakfast. He felt nauseated at the thought of Angela reading that email and probably being mad at him for sending it. He couldn't concentrate on the burning eggs on the stove. They were a charcoal black when he snapped back into reality. With the eggs not being easy enough for him to cook, he settled for a piece of toast and a small glass of orange juice. He couldn't help but think about Angela starting her day with juice the same way. Every thought, feeling, and emotion always made him think of her.

The clock chimed 9:00am as he finished grading the last paper, which gave him enough time to take a shower and get to the college. Walking into his office just 10 minutes before his class started, he dropped off his briefcase, only taking the folder with the graded papers. A picture caught his eye as he turned to face the door. The picture from his winning game in March of '92. Everyone was so happy, even Angela standing by him in the photo seemed to be happy for him. Although, Tony noticed as he looked closer at the picture of Angela in his yellow sweatshirt, her eyes were so sad.

He never realized how much she missed her home and her own surroundings, not at that time anyway. "You're doing what you are meant to do..." some of the last words she ever said to Tony kept flowing through his mind. If this is what he was meant to do, then why was he so unhappy. Tears formed in his eyes and he knew that he needed to pull himself together. His class was just about to start and he turned off the light to his office and closed the door. The walk to the classroom reminded him of that walk he took back to the apartment so long ago. Walking in a daze, not wanting to accept what had happened.

Tony felt like he had just walked 10 miles to the class room, but it was only about 20 steps away from his office. Opening the class room door, he saw many young people eager to learn. _What if Angela and I had stayed together? Would we have a kid getting ready for college?_ Tony started handing out the history papers. Without a word he sat at the desk while the students glanced over their papers.

"Mr. Micelli," said one student.

"Yes, Jason. What is it?" asked Tony.

"I'm confused about something you wrote on my paper," said Jason, raising his paper up to Tony so he could see his own error.

In red ink Tony had written, 'you need a Angela here, not a period.'

"Oh I'm sorry Jason, let me fix that for ya." Tony took the paper to his desk and with a red pen scribbled Angela's name out and put the word 'comma.'

By 11:30am, Tony's first history class was over and so he went to his office and sat in his chair. He turned to his computer to check his email. There was still no reply from Angela. Why should he be surprised. His next class wasn't until 2pm, his Western Civilization class. Tony didn't really prepare anything for the class that day anyway. All they were doing that day was watching a documentary on the life of Martin Luther. A man who wasn't afraid of taking a chance on his beliefs, of living.

The five minute drive back to his home was not a happy one. He couldn't remember the last time he smiled, besides the fake ones, in the past 15 years. He opened the door to his apartment and saw the answer machine light blinking. He pressed the button and he heard Sam's voice...

"Hey Dad! Just wanted to check up on you. Um...I wish you could be here. Hank Jr. just took his first steps last night. I video taped him, so I will send you an email of the footage. You should have seen Marie and Anthony helping him! Um...I really miss you. I hope you are okay. Give me a call back when you get a chance. Love ya!"

That was it. Tony's daughter had ended her message. Not a word about Angela, and not knowing really what to say. The visits were fewer and far between when her baby was born. He wondered if she would be sending footage to Angela too, but of course she would. Sam still loved Angela as a daughter loves her mother and that would never change. Ever since that dreadful phone call about Angela talking about getting remarried, not another word was exchanged between he and his daughter about her. Maybe she was remarried by now anyway. After all, that phone call was about 8 years ago.

With not having any papers to grade this day, he settled on the couch as he usually did if he didn't have anything to fill his time, and watched TV. Still hooked on classics, he remembered how he and Angela would curl up on the couch and watch Casablanca or Singin' in the Rain. This was a new ritual he had started on his own. He would just watch TV and think about all the good times, ignoring all the noises around him. The phone ringing, the clock chiming, and the door bell did not seem to disturb his attention away from the screen. He felt lost, unable to go back to present time.


	5. Chapter 5

Sam sat listening. Waiting for Angela's answer. But it was all there. She could hear the confusion in her silence. After a few minutes passed, Sam continued in her line of questioning. "So you're thinking about it? Marriage. . . with Peter?"

Still no answer.

When Angela didn't respond, Sam continued the conversation alone. "So you and Peter have been seeing each other for a while now. You've developed a wonderful friendship and in the natural course of things, you've started talking about getting married, but in the back of your mind, you keep thinking about Dad. And every time I call, you want to ask how he's doing but you're so afraid to hear the truth that you make up some excuse. Asking about the grandkids or wanting to know what happened to some trinket that used to be some place that you can't find now. But inside your head you're screaming about all the pain that you haven't been able to scrub away."

A minute passed and then a whisper.

"What was that? I didn't _hear_ you." Sam said, purposely putting emphasis on the word.

"Yes." Angela whispered.

Sam could tell she was crying once again. It wasn't anything new. Angela always seemed remorseful toward the end of their conversations. For a while, it bothered her that she'd cry when asking about where Tony had kept the butter dish or how to operate the vacuum. In some ways, she was sadly glad to hear it. Satisfied in the stupidity of her parents, but over time her satisfaction turned to remorse, as well. She was anxious for both of them to move on and unlock the prisons they had confined themselves to.

"So. . .what are you going to do about it?" Sam said hinting as she always did.

"I don't know." She whispered again. "I'm thinking about it."

"But Angela, you don't love him."

"I've been in love and it hurts to much. Maybe its better this way. If I marry him and it doesn't work out, at least I won't hurt like I do now."

"But what kind of marriage is that?"

"One of friendship and companionship. He makes me laugh, Sam. He's been hurt too, so he understands. And even through all the insecurity and the broken heart I'm clinging to, he loves me all the same. I can trust him and that's something I haven't been able to do. . . for a long time."

"So would you change your name?"

"There's only one man I would have done that for."

"Well, it sounds to me like you've made up your mind."

"Sure does. . ." Angela said as her voice faded. The mental debate Sam caused her to finally have with herself left her saddened, but seemingly aware that she'd finally made up her mind.

"Then let me be the first to congratulate you." Sam offered with a hint of displeasure.

"Sam, don't say it like that. Do you know how hard it is for me to even be considering this?"

"I'm trying Angela, but I don't get it. You had the love of your life in the palm of your hand and you threw it all a way, for what? A job, an empty house, a man that will never be able to fill your heart wi..."

"Sam, stop it. Don't be like. I need you to understand."

"But I don't!"

Suddenly, all the guilt that had been buried just under the surface of Mt. St. Angela began to explode "Alright, do you want me to admit it? After all these years, do you want me to say it.? Fine! Yes! I messed up! I was an idiot! I let him go and its my own fault! Do you know how many times I've tried to pick the phone to apologize.? Do know how many letters I have written that sit un-mailed in the corner of my bedroom? Do you know how many times I've flown to Iowa and stood outside his door and not had the courage to knock? So many times that I can't even begin to count! Because all those times, I see that face that I left standing outside his apartment five years ago. His sadness and his frustration. And my only hope is that that face doesn't exist anymore. I want him to be happy. I want him to have gotten on with his life."

"But Angela. . ."

"I don't want to hear it, Sam. Whatever has happened in his life. . . I don't want to hear it. The less I know, the better it will be. . . for both of us."

Now it was Sam's turn to be quiet. She knew her dad was as miserable as Angela was, but if she didn't want to know, Sam was not about to share.

"If that's the way you want it. . ."

"That's the way it has to be."

After a moment, Sam cleared her throat and said, "I love you, Angela. Despite all this craziness. You know you'll always be my mom, don't you?

"Yes, Sam." She returned with a sniffle. "I love you too."


	6. Chapter 6

It was 8:30pm, and without realizing, Tony had fallen asleep on the couch. Waking up to a loud commercial about 'Hamilton's Soap, he turned off the TV. He sat there in a daze, as if not knowing what to do next. He was very sleepy, but didn't have a reason to be, except for the fact he never really slept 8 hours at night anymore. Still in his working clothes, he decided to go change into some comfortable pajamas.

He stood up, about to walk into the bedroom when suddenly a voice said, "You've Got Mail!" Tony stopped dead in his tracks only to do a 180 to stand directly in front of his computer. He rushed as quickly as he could, only hoping. Just hoping. It was an email...from Sam. The email consisted of a little note and video footage, as Sam promised, of Hank, jr.'s first baby steps.

In the message it stated, "Hey Dad, here is the video of the grandkids. I hope it puts a smile on your face! Miss you! Love you! Wish you were here!" Tony read the message a thousand times before he opened the attachment. He opened the footage and couldn't believe the strong resemblance between he and his youngest grandson. Then he saw his other two grandchildren, Marie and Anthony, both seven years old, helping little Hank walk over to his mommy. Apparently, Hank Sr. was holding the camera.

Tony looked at Sam. _Look at how happy she seems to be_, he thought to himself. Without realizing he'd said out loud, "I wish I was that happy." He saw Hank Jr. again crawling to the camera to his dad. Tony loved watching his grandchildren playing with each other and loved seeing the happiness in their little faces.

Before he knew it the video was over and he decided to reply to Sam. The only words that came to mind were, "Thank you for making me smile." With that he signed off with a 'Love, Dad,' and sent the reply. The clock chimed 9:00pm and he decided it would be a safe time to call Samantha. It was only 7 California time and it would be a good time to return her call. Before he could pick up the phone to dial her number, his phone rang. He paused for a brief moment, not knowing who could be on the other side of the line. He cautiously picked up the phone and answered in a low tone, "He...Hel...Hello?"

"Hey, Dad!!!!," Samantha shouted on the other side of the line.

"Uh, hi Sam. How are you? You know I was going to call you, but I was waiting for a safe time to. . .uh. . call," Tony said. He was sort of relieved that it was Sam and not someone from the college, or some girl wanting to have a good time, or . . . Angela.

"I just wanted to call and tell you I received your message. I'm glad to hear you finally smiled. For real this time," Samantha said in a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it has been a while," Tony said agreeing with his daughter.

"Well, I just wanted to hear your voice this time, and not the answer machine and so I thought I would give you a call real quick. I love you, Dad and I hope you know that we all think about you everyday," said Sam with crying evident in her voice.

"You know, Sam, I think about all of you too, but I wish things were...I mean...I wish you were here. I was planning on turning in early anyway," Tony said ready to get off the phone before things were more difficult. As always, he was afraid she might bring up Angela.

Realizing her dad was ready to hang up, Sam decided it was best to let him go. "Bye, Dad."

"Bye, Samantha."

Slowly lowering the receiver, he looked up to the monitor. He walked over to the computer and began shutting it down. Taking the seat at his desk, he sat there thinking about his grandchildren. He always wanted his daughter to be happy and apparently she was. Why couldn't he be happy? He knew what was missing, but would not dare mention it to himself, after all, _he was doing what he was meant to do_.

_What exactly am I meant to do? _The words that Angela said to him just played in his mind over and over again. _I guess I'm suppose to be miserable the rest of my life. _

He hated those words. The main words that had haunted him for the past 15 years.

Now almost 10:00pm, he decided to lay down on the bed and try to put all thoughts out of his miserable mind. He closed his eyes and couldn't open them again. Then he saw a white light. Through the light he could see something, but couldn't make out what it was. The light got closer, and closer, as if he were walking to it. The picture became as clear as day. It was Angela...sitting on a chair, he couldn't tell where, but she looked miserable. She looked lost. Her sad eyes reminding him of the picture in his office. Then all of a sudden she looked straight at him and shouted, "TONY!"

He woke up in a cold sweat trying to catch his breath. He sat up in bed wiping the sweat from his forehead. Realizing the time, and knowing he had to be at the college a bit earlier the next day, he laid back down and just stared up at the ceiling. Afraid to close his eyes again, he prayed, "Please God, let me have a peaceful rest." He closed his eyes, but there was no peace in sight. The image of Angela replayed in his mind all night long. _What is going on_, he thought. _These thoughts and images have never been this bad before_. He couldn't understand it. He knew the longer Angela waited to reply to the email the worst these images would be.

He closed his eyes for the final time that night, knowing that the morning was coming quickly. He continued to have thoughts processing through his mind but some how managed to fall asleep again. The next time he would open his eyes, it would be 7:30am. Another day, another thought, another image of Angela would pass through his mind yet again. _When was the last time I had peace? _ He thought as he fell into a deep sleep. Tony wasn't sure what peace was like anymore. It had been a long time since he felt it. _God only knows what kind of day I'll have tomorrow, anyway_.

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After the dream of her ten year old argument with Sam, her eyes had quickly opened once again as 4:30am flashed on her alarm clock. After half an hour of tossing and turning, she had given up on sleep and gone to the kitchen to get something to eat. She craved cold lasagna, but had settled for a glass of juice.

In the dimness of the early morning, she tried to navigate through the maze of boxes that spilled into the hallway. Since Peter's diagnosis in 2006, it was easier to be in town close to the physicians he had come to trust. It had been a quick move. She still hadn't had time to unpack everything and he hadn't had the energy to help her. So many times she wished she had left a lot of her things, but with Mona taking over the house, it made Angela nervous. There were too many keepsakes, too many memories to leave behind. At least in boxes she could keep them out of sight, but not out of mind.

Making her way to her desk in her small study, she flipped the switch on the power strip. Small lights began flashing in the dark, and the steady hum of her computer seemed to sooth her insomnia. A picture of she, Jonathan and Peter on her monitor's background brought a smile to her face. Mona's pointer finger still evident in the left hand corner of the shot always made her laugh. That was her mom, always the life of the party, always the center of attention. She always thought she should worry about her mom, after all she was now in her 80's but Mona still got around like a fifty year old. A little frailer, a little softer, but still a date every Saturday night.

Clicking on the internet icon, Angela's email home page popped right up. There it was once again. "." She rolled her finger across her laptop's touch pad and watched the little hand spin in circles. She finally clicked on Tony's address again and waited for the message to load to the screen. Once it appeared, her eyes glanced over the sentences, though her mind tried not to ingest the words. It was a simple message. One of friendship, curiosity and concern for the way their relationship had ended. It wasn't more than a few paragraphs.

_He can't fool me,_ she thought without realizing she was grinning. Deep down she knew he was hiding his real reasoning. Something was on his mind and she wondered if replying to his message would be opening Pandora's box. _He's only trying to sooth my conscience. Maybe he's just trying to soothe his. _After reading the message five more times, she realized it was now or never. She knew Sam would never speak to her again if she found out she had ignored him.

**Dear Sir. . .**

_Don't be stupid_, she tapping the backspace button.

**Dear Tony,**

She began searching for the most diplomatic way to begin.

"Honesty's good. . . Back when we were just friends we could say anything to each other." Tony's voice said, as she replayed that moment in the cafe in her mind.

"I'm counting on it," she whispered. She placed her fingers on the keyboard and began to write from the heart.


	7. Chapter 7

With the arrow already hovering on the screen just above the SEND button, she sat at the computer for a few minutes rubbing her finger back and forth across the ENTER key. The words to her e-mail reply still blaring back at her on the screen. Was it enough? Was it too much? She didn't want to worry him, but wanted him to know that life had been good to her. Was it a lie? Not entirely. Sam had spilled the beans to her once that Tony knew she had rekindled her relationship with Peter, but since this was just a "Hi. How are you doing?" email, she had decided to keep Peter out of it. There was no reason for him to feel bad about what they were going through. Worry was the last thing she wanted him to feel. She took a deep breath and pushed the key.

As quietly as she could, she placed her juice glass in the sink. She turned her head quickly after hearing a soft banging sound. She realized it was coming from the adjoining wall.

"Peter must be awake," she thought. But as the banging got louder and louder, she ran. By the time she entered the room, she found Hanna, Peter's live-in nurse, rubbing his back. There he was, hunched up over the top of the pail. He had fallen out of bed as his nausea had resurfaced. He'd only been able to make it as far as the pail by Angela's lounger. The contents of his stomach clearly empty now, with only dry heaves left. He couldn't stop and the more he tried, the more obvious it was that he was losing the battle. Angela ran to the bathroom and grabbed a hand towel from the wall and the box of wet wipes. When she returned, Hanna was easing his torso to the floor, so he could lie down. As the next surge of pain hit, he curled up into a ball. He tried to take a breath while fighting the pressure in his abdomen. She wiped his brow and tried to clean his face.

"I guess the "smurf juice" chemo cocktail and that day old enchilada wasn't a great midnight snack," he joked trying to find a way to forget the constant pain.

She smiled and went into automatic pilot. She had learned over the last few months not to think about what was happening in the moment. That's what the "quiet" hours at work were for. They were now for decompression. Unfortunately, Peter's condition had become so grave as of late that she was taking time off work so she could personally drive he and Hanna to his almost daily appointments and help with the most simple tasks.

As she lifted his head and took him in her arms, she touched his forehead and had to pull it back. "You're burning up. We need to get you to the hospital."

"No, please Angela. I'm fine. The worst has passed, I promise."

"Now who's the one that's lying?"

"Sweet Angela, I guess you would know." As his torso constricted in her arms, he tried to fight the pain by talking. "What are you doing here, Angela?"

"I'm here with you, where else would I be?

Hanna approached Peter with a syringe, "I'm going to up his dose of Roxanol." When the syringe was drained Hanna left to start cleaning up.

The pain began to ease and slowly, she could feel his body go limp in her arms.

"Anywhere else, I guess. I'm not exactly your knight in shining armor right now," he whispered joking about his 6 foot 2 inch, small 152 pound frame. The color in his cheeks had all but disappeared and he struggled to take a breath without grimacing. But as he looked into her eyes, a more serious question came to his lips. "But then again, have I ever been?"

The doubt in his words, struck her almost as severely as if she'd been hit in the gut by a two by four. "Oh Petey, you've rescued me in more ways than I can count." With a weak smile and restrained tears, Angela pulled him closer to her. There was more she wanted to say, but the emotion of the moment was too much for her. She leaned down and kissed his forehead. "Isn't that funny? You're not as warm as I thought," she said a little relieved his fever had subsided.

"It's the magic of your kiss, Sweet Angela."

Hanna knelt down next to the couple watching the tender moment. "I've finished changing his sheets," she said hating to interrupt.

"We should probably get him into the shower first." Angela adjusted his head and tried to get behind him at a better angle. "Are you ready?"

"To get pampered by two beautiful women? Lead the way." He said as the ladies lifted him up.


	8. Chapter 8

Tony's morning started off the same way as it always did. This morning he was able to fix decent scrambled eggs and toast and his usual glass of orange juice. Having to be at the college for an early morning meeting at 8:30am, left him little time to check e-mails or watch some TV before starting his usual routine. It would be the last meeting before the end of the semester. He took a shower and got ready for work. Although he didn't teach classes on Thursdays, he went in anyway just keep himself busy.

He grabbed his briefcase and headed out the door. He thought it was a lovely day, so he walked to the college, which wasn't half a mile away. After reaching the campus, he walked around saying "Hi" to various passers-by, rather it be a student or a fellow professor, he didn't care. Trying to forget the occurrences of the past couple of days, he did anything to fill his mind with other thoughts. Although, the people who knew him knew he wasn't acting like his usual self, Tony didn't care. He wanted to try, at least, to have a half decent day. Even if it killed him.

"Good morning, Mr. O'Reilly," Tony said rather loudly to the fellow history professor. Trying to fit in a crowd, didn't seem to be one of his best qualities anymore.

"Oh, come on Mr. Micelli. I think we've known each other long enough to go by each other's first names. Right, Tony?" Asked the rather jolly character.

"Sure, uh. . .Callum," said Tony lowering his voice slightly.

"Oh, you can call me Cal. You know that!" The man said rather impatiently.

"Sure, Cal," said Tony with a slight grin on his face.

As Mr. O'Reilly walked off, Tony laughed to himself. His parents must have figured he'd be bald by the time he was 45. Finding the humor in his own joke, he chuckled a little louder than he should have and people all around started giving him peculiar looks. "I just had a crazy thought," Tony said trying to lighten the mood.

The meeting went rather smoothly, except for when he dosed off a couple times and saw Angela's face flashing in his mind. He had hoped no one had noticed the cold sweat or the shortness of breath. He went to his office immediately after the meeting to avoid anymore strange looks from his other colleagues. He sat at his desk trying to remember everything that was said at the meeting. He only could remember his final exams' schedule. Monday and Tuesday were his last days for the spring semester. Exams would be given all day and he would be confined to a chair without anything to keep him company, unless he brought a book to read.

Although he usually taught summer classes, as well as the regular spring and fall, for some reason Tony had declined the offer this year. He always stayed busy, but he thought he needed a break from everything. Taking a summer off might do me some good, he thought. Tony didn't really want to but something inside him told him to.

Others around him thought he had cracked under pressure, but Tony wasn't the kind. He knew that. Tony was aware of the rumors around him. They just don't understand. Funny thing was, he couldn't explain what was going on, even to himself.

Snapping back yet again, he decided to check his e-mail. He turned to his computer and noticed that a connection could not be established.

"Not now!" Tony moaned.

"Sorry, Tony, the server is down again and it's being repaired as of now," said Ms. Kennington.

Startled by a voice other than his own caused him to jump out of his chair to turn and see who was invading his privacy. "Oh, hi Ms. . . .um.. I mean Jolene."

"I didn't mean to startle you but I have been making my rounds letting the staff know about the server problem. I didn't mean to interrupt whatever you were doing, she said amorously.

"You didn't interrupt anything. I was just, uh, trying to check my e-mail," Tony said, scrambling for words and still trying to get over the shock.

"Okay, well see you around!" Jolene shut the door behind her.

Tony turned back around to face the computer and looked out the window. He found himself staring out at the beautiful scenery, thinking about all the things he had a chance to do and never did. Tony and Jolene had been out on a few dates, but they were never quite up to his standards. He wasn't the type anymore to go to a bar and hang out and that's all Jolene liked to do. Jolene's not my kind of girl.

He lowered himself back to his chair and just stared into space. It wasn't even noon time and he was hungry. To get his mind off his troubles, and now his growling stomach, he decided to finish preparing the final exams. Not needing a connection to the server for this, he open up the program which contained all the files for his classes. Tony opened up his book and took out the exam guide he gave to the students for his first class and began typing questions. He did the same for the second, and the third, and finally his Western Civilization class.

Before he knew it, it was now 1:00pm. Most of the teachers who didn't have classes in the afternoon were usually gone by lunchtime. He packed up his belongings, leaving the tests organized to the order the tests would be given in the top drawer of his desk and walked out the door. Since he was starving by that time, he decided to eat at the only restaurant in town. Walking just a couple of blocks from the school, he went in the somewhat deserted place and requested a table for one.

He was seated at a table by a window where he could see the tall building of the college. He tried not to look out at the familiar surroundings and pretended he was in a restaurant back in Connecticut, or New York. He ordered the lasagna that was on special for the day and a glass of water. The lasagna wasn't that great, but it was filling. About thirty minutes later, he paid for lunch and left a tip and headed for his apartment.

As he entered the apartment, he threw his briefcase aside and sat on the couch. He left the TV off and tried to enjoy the quietness around him, but it was no use. It was too quiet and so he turned on the TV for some background noise. For some reason, he was sort of fidgety and couldn't sit without moving his body. Tony decided to walk around the apartment a little bit and try to calm down but nothing worked. He sat back on the couch once again to try to concentrate on what was on the TV screen but he couldn't comprehend a word that was coming from the commercial. It would have helped if he hadn't of left the channel on the Spanish station. He started flipping channels for something that would catch his eye, but nothing did. He finally turned the television off and remained seated for countless minutes.

He then looked over at his computer, which was conveniently turned on. "I thought I shut that down last night," he said to himself. Slowly, he walked to the computer and moved the mouse around a little bit. The black screensaver faded and his e-mail inbox appeared. He had a new e-mail. . . from Angela. In complete shock, he sat in the chair at his computer.

Do I want to read this? What if she says to leave her alone? So many thoughts, feelings, and doubts were running through his head as he stared at the screen. He started moving the mouse around circling her e-mail address. Sweat started to appear on his brow and with great hesitation he slowly clicked on the unopened message. The message appeared on the screen.


	9. Chapter 9

"...Neither is the earth the lesse, or loseth ought,

For whatsoever from one place doth fall,

Is with the tide unto another brought:

For there is nothing lost,

That may be found, if sought."

Angela closed the "The Faerie Queen" by Edmund Spenser and turned to look at Peter. He had begged her to read the book to him twenty minutes before, but as he tried getting lost in the story of the two destined to fall in love, he found himself getting lost somewhere else. With his bed sitting right next to the window, he had laid his forehead up against the glass. From their fifth floor view, he could see the people of the city passing on the sidewalk below. It was now six o'clock. There were people walking to their homes, to dates, to dinner and to people they love. None of them, though, had any idea about the person on the fifth floor who was watching them from above. The man who was just a little jealous that he wouldn't be among them in the morning.

A soft whisper came to his lips. "Do you think they know?"

"Know what Peter?" Angela said, rising from her chair and taking a seat next to him on the side of his bed.

"How lucky I am? How after all the pain I faced after losing Charlotte and my little Anne, that I could find such happiness with you?" He asked as more of a statement than a question. With care, he leaned back on his bed to face her. Taking her hand, he tried to raise it to his lips, but his last bit of strength left him and his hand and hers fell to his chest. "Well, I guess that's close enough." He smiled weakly and closed his eyes.

She quickly took his hand in hers and kissed it.

Briefly, he opened his eyes again and smiled his weary grin. "Angela, there is something important I need to tell you. That I need to get off my chest. And I don't have much. . ."

"Peter," she interrupted him before he could finish his sentence, "if this is going to be a speech . ."The speech". . .I'm going to stop you right there, buddy." There was a finality in his voice. She knew he was speaking for the heart anytime the jokes stop and she also knew that the sooner "The Speech" began, the sooner. . . She wasn't ready. Not even after two years of trial medications, chemotherapy, hair loss and three close calls, she wasn't ready for the "G" word. It always seemed to hang out there like a shadow looming over her shoulder. Although she knew their time left together was short, she wasn't ready to accept it.

"I'm sor. . ." Angela began, but was cut off by the ring of the doorbell. A little grateful for the interruption, she yelled "I'm coming!" as she placed his hand back on his chest.

Running to the door, Angela peeked through the keyhole and spotted a friendly face. Just seeing his smile, seemed to lift her spirits.

"Jonathan, what are you doing here?" She opened the door as wide as it would open and hugged him tightly.

"Mom, are you okay?" He said taking a step back, his arms still around her waist. "You look like you haven't slept in weeks."

"That's probably because I haven't, Sweetheart." A little embarrassed, she tried pushing the little tuffs of hair that had escaped the bandana she'd been wearing for the past few days. She straightened her sweatshirt and tried to make eye contact with her grown son, but it didn't last long.

"Mom, why didn't you call?"

"You have enough to worry about, Sweetheart."

"He's pretty bad now, huh?"

Angela looked at him for a second and began biting her lip as she closed the door. "I don't think it will be too much longer, Sweetheart. The last time we saw the doctor, he told me he didn't think he'd last the week."

"Mom, I'm so sorry. Is there anything I can do?"

"I bet he'd enjoy a visit."

Twenty minutes later, the foursome was playing their usual hand of "Farkle." It was a dice game that Jonathan's wife, Emma, had taught them a few years back. Hanna, the "Amazon Woman" as Jonathan always called her, had moved Peter to his wheel chair and had wheeled him into the dining room so they could all throw the dice. But with so little strength, Peter was content to watch and tell Angela whether to roll for him or "stay."

"Bank it." Peter smiled when the latest of his proxy rolls had left him with a 2,500 points. "You've still got the magic touch, Sweet Angela."

She smiled at him as she took her own turn. If she was going to be able to carry over Peter's winnings to herself, she had to roll a one or a five. Pulling three of the dice up to her lips, she blew on them and dropped them in front of her. "Oh well, " she said when the dice stopped. "I guess my luck only works on you." She grabbed all six dice and placed them in Jonathan's hand.

"Hey Jon, you never told me what brought you over on a Friday night?" Peter asked with a cough. "I thought you and Emma would have found a sitter for some hot date. You know, I would have loved to watch Sarah and Laura myself, but I'd wear them out. They would have only been able to handle all my stealth tickling skills for a few hours." As usual, he joked as he winked.

Jonathan winked right back and apologized. "I'm sorry, I thought I told you. My mother-in-law is taking the kids for the weekend and so Emma thought she'd spend the night since she'd be driving back so late by herself. We all went to dinner for she left." Jonathan looked down at his roll, a little disappointed he had rolled neither a one or five either.

"I'm so glad you have such a great relationship with your mother-in-law." Peter said with a straight face. "I just wish you and I got a long better. I know you've always been so jealous of my good looks."

"Shut up!" Jon said with a smile. "Yeah, I've always hated ya! You know you really can be such a dork sometimes."

"Hey, Sweet Angela. . . since I've all but won this game, why don't you go take a break? I think a nice moment in the shower's steam might do you some good." Peter said trying to put on a brave face.

"Yeah, I've got some time to watch this big baby for you," Jonathan said with a faux punch to Peter's right arm. "Go relax, Mom. "Helga" and I have this all under control," he whispered when he was sure Hanna was out of earshot.

"If you're sure. . ." She said with a little apprehension, not knowing whether to believe Peter or not.

"Of course, we are." Peter said a little breathlessly. "But if you hear any yelling when you come back, it's only cause Jon's trying to get out of a strangle hold I've got him in and he's screaming for "mercy!"

"Very funny." She said happy to see him having such a good time. "I'll be back soon. And Peter . . ."

"Yes, Sweet Angela?"

"Be gentle with him," she said with a similar wink. "He's the only son I've got."


	10. Chapter 10

Tony remained at the computer staring at the screen. He didn't know how many times he had read the message over and over again. Angela wasn't mad at him at all for sending her a message. He felt she was reassuring him that things were fine. At least the past fifteen years have been good to her, he thought. But the more he read the e-mail, the more he still felt something was wrong. He hit the reply key, but he was unsure whether he should reply or not. Tony didn't want to pry or drive her crazy. He reconsidered and hit the Cancel button. Tony closed his e-mail and shutdown the computer.

The words of Angela's message were still playing in his mind, but his heart told him something was wrong. He was in deep thought when his door bell rang and startled him. Tony slowly walked to the door hoping it was someone who had taken a wrong turn. When he opened the door, he looked at her and she looked at him, but she didn't turn away. It was Jolene.

"Hi Tony, I thought I would check up on you," she said with a bit of concern in her voice.

"Oh, hi Jolene. You're the las.. I mean...I didn't expect to see you," he said with his thoughts still somewhere else.

"I know I came without calling you first, but I didn't want to give you a chance to say 'no.' Besides, I know we dated in the past and things didn't work out, but I was hoping I could be here for you as a friend," she said with hope.

"Well, I would like that."

"A good way to start our friendship is by inviting me in. It's kind of lonely out here in the hall," she said with a little grin.

Noticing he was still holding the handle on the door he pulled the door wide open and said, "I'm sorry, Jolene. Please come on in."

Looking around the apartment, Jolene was amazed at how the apartment looked the same as it always had in the past years. The furniture was in the same place, the paintings and pictures were in the same place. There were a few items Tony had added in recent years, but everything else was the same.

"Well, when was the last time you had a good decent meal," she asked.

"Today, actually. I stopped at the 'only restaurant in town' and had some of their lasagna. I've been kinda craving that stuff lately," he said trying to smile.

"What about before lunch? I mean Mr. Micelli, you look kind of thin." Jolene could sense there was something wrong with Tony and she only wanted to help him.

"Well, if you wanted some dinner, why didn't you say so?" Trying to be understanding, he offered to cook them dinner so they could keep each other company and she accepted without hesitation.

For the first time in a long time, Tony felt like cooking something decent. He would have loved to make lasagna, but knew it would be too much for his stomach. He took a couple of Tums and decided on his famous spaghetti and meatballs instead. After about forty-five minutes in the kitchen cooking, dinner was ready.

"Oh, Tony, You should own the only restaurant in town! This is fabulous," Jolene expressed in delight.

"Thanks Jolene. Actually I haven't really cooked like this in a long time," Tony said drifting back into time.

"I know."

"Look, Jolene, I'm sorry things didn't wo..."

"Don't worry about it Tony. I know about Angela. I know you love her still," Jolene said interrupting him.

"Yeah. . . I do. I just can't get over the times we had together. I mean she knows everything about me." Tony was really getting upset. He'd never really expressed his feelings to someone outside the family. Speaking to a friend about Angela was something he wasn't used to.

Jolene started to say something but he couldn't hear the words that were coming out of her mouth.

His mind was saying, "Ignore it. The pain will go away...someday."

His heart was screaming something else. Tony hadn't listened to the words of his heart in a long time. It was screaming, "Angela needs you! Go to her! She needs you right now!"

Tony couldn't explain this. He looked more confused than ever.

"Tony?" Jolene said with more concern.

"Huh?" Tony asked in a sad, almost crying voice.

"Is there anything you want to tell me right now?" Jolene knew he was thinking of Angela.

"It's funny. I'm thinking so many things right now, Jolene. Maybe I need to be alone." He didn't mean to be rude but he needed to make some sense of what was going on.

"Angela needs you! Go to her! Go right now!!" His heart continued to scream.

"TONY!" Jolene yelled.

Tony snapped back to the present and noticed a frustrated Jolene sitting across from him. He apologized and she did the same for yelling.

"I think it's time I leave you alone now. I think you do need to think about things. Maybe Angela would want you to move on like she has."

Tony escorted Jolene to the door and locked it behind her. Even if what she said was not meant to be hurtful, every word Jolene said before she walked out the door felt like flesh wounds from a rusty knife right into his heart. Tony couldn't move on. He didn't want to move on. Tony was surprised he had survived this long without Angela, the woman who owned his heart. He grabbed his chest, not in physical pain, but in emotional heart break.

He kept hearing the words, "Go to Angela! She needs you! Go to her right now!"

Tony wanted to close his eyes and put every thought out of his mind, heart, and soul! He fell onto the couch with tears in his eyes.

"If there was something wrong Angela would call. Or would she?" His mind asked as he paced the floor.

Tony went back over to his computer to turn it back on, but once again it was conveniently turned. He wasn't sure what was going on, but it was creeping him out.

"What's going on here?" Tony shouted to the top of his lungs, not caring who heard it. He wiggled the mouse with his e-mail already opened, showing the message from Angela. He read that e-mail a thousand times before realizing it was 11 O'clock. The sound of his heart was barely over a whisper now.

"Go to Angela! She needs you. You'll never know how much she needs you until you go."

Tony, being able to breathe a little better, decided instead to listen to the voice in his head instead. "Angela would have told me she needed me."

Deep down, Tony knew this to be false for his heart kept telling him softly and reassuringly that Angela needed him over and over again.

Tony was too tired to listen and decided if he was going to get any sleep at all, that he would try to do it now, or he'd never fall asleep that night.

Talking to himself he said, I'll e-mail her tomorrow to make sure everything is okay, whether she gets mad at me or not.

Tony turned off the computer. This time watching it to make sure it actually turned off. When the computer switched off, he walked towards the bedroom slowly.

So many things had happened over the past three or four days that he just didn't have an explanation for and it was driving him crazy.

How is that computer conveniently turned on every time I look at it? Why was Angela's message the first message I saw? Why is my heart crying out for me to go see her now?

Many other peculiar things were to happen unbeknownst to Tony, but he didn't know what ride he was in for that night. He changed into his pajamas and crawled weakly into his bed. There he would be in for another night of tossing and turning with only a hint of a couple hours of sleep. Then a dream. A dream that would change the course of his life, forever.


	11. Chapter 11

WWWWAAAAaaaaaaa!

The siren from the ambulance tore down the street. Angela sat huddled in the corner of the cabin as the medics tried putting an IV in Peter's arm. His pulse was weak, but he was still conscious. His oxygen levels were down to 88%, well below the normal 95-100% they should have been. The oxygen mask they had put over his face made his whispered words impossible to hear so she put her finger to her lips, telling him they would talk soon.

Angela's hair was still clearly wet. She had just finished rinsing it, when she had heard Jonathan and Hanna's screams. She rushed into the hall and without even thinking dialed 911 in her towel. After the call was made, she dressed quickly in her old yellow sweatshirt and a pair of jeans. She was so rushed to dress, she hadn't even noticed she'd grabbed one blue and one black slip on. By the time the medics arrived, Peter had regained consciousness, but his fever was now desperately high. She'd rushed into the cold night air beside Peter's gurney with only a yell to Jonathan to call Mona to let her know where they would be.

As they arrived at the hospital, the doors of the ambulance flew open and an unusually cold breeze entered the cabin. Everyone ran into the hospital at a sprint and Angela panicked as they ran faster than her tired body could carry her. As the medics pushed Peter into the trauma room, a nurse stopped Angela as she tried to go in with them.

"Ms. Bower, you're going to have to wait here." The nurse said, instantly recognizing Angela from she and Peter's previous late night visits. "Let them get his stats back up and then I'll let you in. Right now, you'd just be in the way."

"But please, Maria. . "

"I promise, I'll let you in as soon as I can."

Angela was left alone, staring at the swinging doors. She stood in stunned silence watching the emergency room doctors working on Peter through the small glass windows. A lingering sound of alarm could be heard as panic emerged again.

"Paddles!" She heard some yell.

"Charging 200!"

"Clear."

As she stood helplessly watching, a whispered voice spoke to her heart. "Don't worry, you won't be alone for long. You'll be with him soon."

"I know," she found herself whispering just under her breath. "Peter will be up and walking around in a few days. He'll be home soon."

She watched his body contort and fall back to the gurney below. The long beep continued.

"No, not me." The voice whispered back. "You need to let me go."

"Charging 200!"

"Clear!"

"Peter!" She screamed as the voice finally seemed to penetrate her heart.

"Okay, we've got a pulse!"

The beeping of the heart monitor brought on a slow steady rhythm. Nurse Maria, entered the hall through the swinging doors and grimly looked the shocked Angela in the eye.

"Ms. Bower, the doctor wants to talk to you. He'll be out shortly."

As Angela found the courage to look into the room again, she could tell Peter had regained consciousness. His lips moved as the doctor nodded in the affirmative.

"You're just being silly," she told herself. "Hearing voices? You really do need some sleep." She tried to laugh it off, but found herself crying instead.

The doctor walked out of the room and put his stethoscope back behind his neck. "I'm sorry you have to be here again, Ms. Bower."

"How is he, Dr. Barker?"

He looked down at the floor for a moment and tried to think of the best way to break the news.

"It's not good, Angela," he said finally gaining the courage to use her first name. "It won't be much longer."

"But you've told me that before."

"But not this time. He's breathing on his own right now, but I don't think it will be too much longer before he's going to need a breathing tube. I know you two have discussed this before, but he's just told me he's ready to sign a DNR."

"Doctor?" Not willing the words to penetrate her mind."

"A 'DO NOT RESUSCITATE' order. I know the subject has come up before."

"But Dr.. . ."

"Angela, stop fighting this and go talk to him. The reason he's still hanging around is for you."

She felt like her feet were nailed to the floor, but the doctor gave her a gentle pat on the back and nudged her forward. As she approached the door, her automatic pilot kicked in and she made her way to Peter's bedside. She tried her best to be brave, but she couldn't keep her tears from falling onto his arm.

"So, since you've just ran up another $10,000 bill, lets go home and break into that piggybank you've got in the corner." She joked through her tears.

"Angela. . " he said as he reached up and removed the oxygen mask that covered his face.

"Don't do that," Angela pleaded, trying to put it back on him.

"Angela. . ." He took a deep lingering breath. "It's time for 'The Speech.'"

"No, Peter. Not now, you've got to rest."

"Now, Sweet Angela. . . I don't think. . .I'm going to get. . .another chance. . . Please. . ."

She bit her top lip and slowly nodded her head.

After another few shallow breaths he said, "You heard me. . . didn't you? Outside. . . in the hall?"

She nodded again.

He continued trying to speak, just a few words at a time. "And. . .it scared you. . . didn't it.?"

Another nod.

"But Sweet Angela, . . .you don't have to be. . . I've known the whole time."

"Known what?"

"That you still. . .love Tony."

"Peter?"

"Don't argue. . .with me. I've always. . .known it. I believed. . . in your love. . . for him. . . even when you. . . thought you'd forgotten. . . how it felt. It's on your face. . . every time. . . we drive through Brooklyn. . . every time. . .you get a phone call. . . from Sam. I know you love. . .him. I know we've been happy. . . in our time together. But now, you. . . have to open. . your heart to him. . .again. He still needs you. . . and you will. . . need him. And even though. . . I know. . . you love me. . . I know deep down. . .you love him. . . just a little bit more." He smiled weakly as a small tear streamed down his temple.

"Please Pete, don't do this. I do love you, in all the ways that count. You're my friend, my companion, my sunshine on a cloudy, and yes, even my 'Damsel in Distress.'"

"But Sweet Angela. . .right now. . . he needs. . . you more."

"But I need you. . . I need you to help me remember how to smile, how to laugh."

"He can do. . . that."

"How do you know? How do you even know he'd want to? How come you'rer trying to get rid of me? Did you see some hot nurse you're crazy for?" She said trying to laughing in order to stop her tears.

He reached up and wiped the tears that were falling steadily now. "I just know. . .Sweet Angela. Don't ask. . . me how. But I know. . . he loves you. . .still," he said taking his last ounce of strength to place his hand over her heart. "He still. . . lives here."

He closed and opened his eyes once again and smiled. "I hope you know. . . how sorry I am. . .for selfishly. . .holding on. . .to you. You've helped me. . . through some. . .of the hardest years of my life. Without Charlotte. . . without Anne. . .I never thought I'd make it. . . I'm just glad. . .God led you to find me. . .on the train that day. It's like. . . He was giving me. . .another swing at bat. Another chance. . .to be happy."

"But I do love you, Peter."

"I've know. . .all along. We've had. . .a groovy. . .kind of love."

"You joke even now?" She asked wiping his eyes.

"Yes. Even now. And when it. . .does happen for you. . .and Tony. . .you have my. . . blessing. Preferably. . . sooner. . . the better." He winked.

"But Pete. . ."

He closed his eyes one more time and smiled. "I love you. . . Sweet Angela," he whispered as he slid into a coma.


	12. Chapter 12

Tossing and turning ensued, as Tony predicted, but it didn't keep him from trying to fall asleep. Numerous glances every five minutes or so at the alarm clock on the stand beside his bed didn't help either. Tony wished he could simply close his eyes and fall asleep, which he tried many times and it never worked. His heart was still crying and even though the sound was muffled now, he could still hear those words over and over again.

"Go to Angela, she needs you."

Tony looked at the clock a final time, 2:30am. Tony knew he had to get some sleep or there was just no way he would make it through the next day.

About to give up all hope of falling asleep, he closed his eyes. Tony felt like his eyes were pasted shut. He tried opening them, but found just like the night before, he couldn't. He felt like he was moving. Not physically, but somehow his spirit was being transported from one place to another. Tony could feel wind beneath him as if he were floating in air. He wanted to see where he was at, but he still could not open his eyes. Suddenly, the wind stopped and everything around him was still. Tony tried yet again to open his eyes and this time he could. Confusion over took him.

Tony was seated in a chair in the middle of a long hallway. Every wall, door, and the floor was white. Confused by his surroundings, he stood up and began walking down the hall of the way he was facing. There were two sliding doors at the end of the hall which, Tony guessed, were about three hundred feet or so away. Suddenly, the doors slid open and a bright light appeared.

"Oh my God," Tony said. "I'm dead."

"You're not dead, Tony," a voice said.

The light was getting so bright that Tony had to shield his eyes.

"Who said that?" He was getting a little nervous. He'd never experienced anything this crazy before. A figure appearing in a white suit started to come forward in the midst of the light.

"You know me, Tony, and I know you very well." The figure was now about fifty feet away from him.

"Oh, um, I'm not sure that I do. You see I've never been in a place like this before." Tony was getting more and more nervous as the figure of a man grew closer to him.

"But, you do know me Tony. I haven't always been here. I knew you in another life," the man replied.

"Which life are you talking about?" Tony was getting very flustered by that time. The figure was so close now. He could see the face, but he wasn't sure who it was.

"You know, Tony. Or at least you will." The man appeared to have a smile on his face. "You'll remember me when the time is right. And when you do, just know. . . you have my blessing."

"Oh, whatever you say Mr. Um...what did you say your name was?" Tony asked a little frustrated.

He knew he'd seen that face before but he couldn't think of where or when. The one thing he did know for sure was that look of peace he saw staring back at him. It was something he knew he wanted for himself. There was a tranquility about the man. Something Tony had only experienced in the arms of his own sweetheart.

"That's not important right now. I have a message for you, but I think you already know what that message is. You need to go home." The man said with a more serious look on his face.

"Well, I was home until I woke up here," Tony started sarcastically.

"You know what home I mean. Iowa has never been your home. That apartment in Iowa has never been your home. You need to go where your heart is. That is the home I'm referring to." The man said with caring and concern in his voice.

The man could tell that Tony knew what he was talking about because a little tear fell out of the corner of his eye.

"Why do I need to go where my heart is? She has somebody else." Tony was getting upset now. Why is this happening to me? He thought. Why am I letting myself be tortured like this?

"Go to Angela, Tony. She needs you! Go to her right now!" The man said almost pleading with him. "I know you still love her. She needs you to be there for her."

Tony was in complete shock. This is the voice I've been hearing all evening, he said to himself. When Tony realized this, he looked back to the man who had just turned around walking back to the sliding doors.

"Go to Angela, Tony. She needs you! Go to her right now!" The man continued to saying this until he reached the sliding doors. Once he went through the doors, he turned to look at Tony and smiled one last time. The doors slowly shut in front of the man as once again the light became brighter and brighter, but Tony tried to watch this figure disappear without flinching. The doors were shut and everything turned dark. So dark that he couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed.

Without warning, the floor opened beneath him and Tony started to fall. He was falling and couldn't see above him or below him. Tony was scared to death. He prayed and pleaded saying, "Please God, don't let me fall to my death! Help me please!" But as he continued to fall he yelled, "I'll go to her right now, I promise!" Then all of a sudden, he woke up.

Tony sat up in bed so fast he almost made himself dizzy. He was shaking, a little from fright, and a little from the conversation he had had with a man in a white suit. He looked at the clock and read 4:30am. Jumping out of bed, wide awake, he grabbed a bag out of the closet and began putting clothes in it. Tony grabbed items out of his drawers, closet, and bathroom, not really sure what all he was packing. He decided he would fill his carry-on up until it couldn't hold anymore.

When he finished packing, he found himself doing something he hadn't done since he was a little boy. He dropped to the side of his bed and prayed asking for guidance and a safe journey, "and please, God, let me be allowed to get there as fast as I can."

Tony called the airport to see when the next flight to New York would be available. Unbelievably, he found the next flight would be leaving at 6:00 and one seat was available. Tony asked them to hold the seat for him and he would be there as soon as possible. He grabbed his keys and his bag and flew out the door. He ran of out the building and spotted Artie, the town's lone cab driver parked on the next block.

He ran over to the car and banged on the hood.

"Artie! Wake up!"

"What?" The balding cab driver yelled with a start.

Tony climbed in the back seat.

"Oh, Mr. Micelli! Where to?"

"To the airport."

"You're starting your summer break a little early, aren't you?" The old man asked in a sleepy voice.

"No, Artie. I'm going to do something I should have done years ago."

Tony knew he had to go but he was also scared to death of what to expect. How will Angela react to seeing me? But the more he thought about his doubts, the more he realized they didn't matter anyway. He knew what he had to do.

The drive to the airport was a smooth one. With so little traffic on the road, they were at the airport in less than fifteen minutes. Before, Artie had come to a complete stop, Tony tossed a couple of twenties over the seat and opened the door.

"Wish me luck, Artie."

"Good luck! Have a safe flight!" He yelled a little confused.

Tony ran to the counter and purchased the ticket. He had about thirty minutes before his plane would be taking off, but he couldn't sit down. He was pacing back and forth with all sorts of ideas running through his mind. What if Angela is hurt? What if she was in a bad accident? Tony tried to put every negative thought out of his mind. Before he knew it, it was time to start boarding. He handed the flight attendant his ticket and she said with a smile, "Enjoy your flight, sir."

"Oh, thank you, Ma'am." Tony started walking down the gate into the plane. He made it to his seat and wondered how he would be able to stay still all the way to New York. As the plane took off, he looked at the place that had been his so called home for so long. How could I have been so stupid? He asked himself.

The plane ride went rather smoothly and as soon as he landed and got things situated, he rented a car and started his two hour drive to Connecticut. He took out his cell phone and dialed the number to his teacher's assistant, Mike Bradley. When Mike did not answer his phone, Tony left a message.

"Um, hi Mike. I won't be able to make it to the college for exams. I've been called out of state due to an emergency. I need you to take over the remainder of my classes and I'll keep in touch. Thanks, Mike."

Tony didn't feel it was totally a lie. After all, didn't a man in a dream telling him that he needed to be with Angela count? Tony thought it did.

He looked at his watch. It was going on 8:30am and he drove as fast as he could.

"You can slow down, Tony. Angela doesn't need to lose you, too," he heard the voice inside him saying.

Traffic wasn't that bad and he knew he would make perfect time only if he didn't get stopped by a state trooper for speeding. He slowed down to the speed limit and still made it to Connecticut in record time.

Before he knew it, he was where he had called home so long ago. The same house with the white picket fence. So many good memories were going through his head that he sat there and enjoyed the moment. He finally felt like he was home. He got out of the car and looked around a little. Nothing much had changed, except he was sure his herb garden wasn't there anymore. He walked up to the door. He looked above the door and saw the numbers 3344. Tony wasn't sure if Angela lived here still or not, or who did exactly. With great hesitation, he rang the door bell and waited.


	13. Chapter 13

Peter had been moved to his own bed in the ICU by two in the morning. By seven-thirty, he was still breathing on his own, but the sound of it had grown ever fainter.

"It's like he's just sleeping," Angela said, as she rolled her finger along the top of the paper cup.

Jonathan pulled a chair from the corner and place it next to his mother.

"How are you doing, Mom?" He took her hand in his and tried his best to smile.

She looked at their hands and interlaced her fingers with his. "It's just so hard to see him laying there. . . " The tears were flowing freely now and she tried to shield her eyes from her son's worried ones. "I know he's ready, but I can't figure out why he's still. . .here."

"Maybe his ride hasn't shown up yet."

"What?" She said as she fought the urge to giggle. Instead, she smiled awkwardly as she reached over to the nightstand next to Peter's bed and took a Kleenex.

"I'm sorry for trying to be funny at a time like this, but maybe it's true. Maybe the "light" he has to walk towards hasn't shown up yet or maybe he's waiting from some word of encouragement from you."

"Jonathan, I don't want him to leave. Why would I be encouraging him?" She let go of Jonathan's hand and stood next to Peter's bedside.

"Don't you think you're being a little selfish Mom? What about him? Don't you think he's been hanging on long enough? Don't you think he misses her too?"

"Her?" The long suppressed giggle finally came through Angela's lips.

"Charlotte? Have you already forgotten? The woman he's mourning for the last twelve years. Maybe it's her turn to spend sometime with him."

She giggled again but this time there was a little sadness in its echo. "You know its funny that you bring up Charlotte because the last speech he gave me was about how I was still. . ."

"What Mom?"

She turned back to look at her son, ". . .still in love with Tony."

Jonathan's eyes opened ever wider as he stood in surprise. This was the first time she'd mentioned his surrogate father's name out loud in nearly a decade. And the fact that she mentioned "love" in the same sentence did even more to shock him.

He wanted to be mad at her, but looking down at Peter and then up at her face, he realized he wanted to console her instead.

"Is it true? After all this time, Mom?" He put his arm around her shoulder and smiled as he tried to understand the myriad of emotions that were taking over.

"Yes. . ." No other words were necessary.

Jonathan stood embracing his mother trying to make sense of the pain and yet awkwardness her revelation was causing even him. He could tell by the look in her eyes that it was like a burden had been lifted from her shoulders. He knew even now what and who she needed and he was bound and determined to help.

"I'm sorry to do this now, Mom, but I've got to make a phone call. Will you be okay?"

"I'm sure I will, Sweetheart."

Jonathan lowered the railing on the hospital bed and pulled Angela's chair directly next to it.

"Thank you sweetheart. Oh, and be sure to say "hi" to Emma for me." Angela said as she took a seat beside Peter.

"I'll be back soon."

"Okay." She waved to Jonathan as he walked out of the room.

As her eyes turned back to Peter, she took his hand in hers and glided her finger up and down his jaundiced hand. Her eyes finally came to rest on the face of the man who had devoted the last twelve years of his life to her. They had come to love and care for each other despite the ghosts of their past. Yet, despite their best efforts not to, they had become each other best friend, the owners of shoulders smothered in each others tears and their last conversation at the end of the day. She had let herself fall in love with him and he with her. Maybe not in the conventional way, but in the kind of love that comes from trust, friendship and empathy. And now, he would soon be gone, too. A gulf of emptiness now seemed to sweep over her.

Tired of fighting back tears, she decided instead to lay her head next to his arm and close her eyes. With all the panic of the last forty-eight hours, sleep would be a welcomed retreat.

___________________________________________

It felt like time stood still as Tony waited for someone to answer the door. He was about to press the bell one more time when he heard faint steps coming towards him. He heard them get closer...closer....closer....closer, and then suddenly his phone started to vibrate. The motion from his phone scared him half to death and when he was about to see who was calling, the door knob turned a little and the door was opened.

"Mona?" Tony was in shock and sort of relieved it was her.

"Tony?" Mona was in as much shock as Tony was.

Both stood there looking at each for a few seconds before saying anything.

"Took you long enough, didn't it?" Mona asked in shock.

"Well, it took me this long to realize how stupid I am." Mona backed up a little to let Tony in the house. As he looked around, he saw how everything looked the same, although a few things weren't there anymore. He knew something and someone was missing.

"Angela doesn't live here anymore. She's living in New York now." Mona could tell he hadn't come to see her.

"Something's wrong, Mon. I feel it. I've had this feeling for the past week. Actually, I've had a lot of feelings running through my head the past several years." Tony couldn't even look at Mona while giving his speech. He felt so stupid.

"You know about Peter?" Mona asked.

"What about him?"

"He's in the hospital. And if you ask me, I think Angela could use a shoulder to cry on. If she ever needed you, it would be now." Mona suddenly looked so sad and upset for her daughter. It was an emotion she never hid well and he could tell she was being serious.

Seeing the look of concern on his face, Mona quickly told Tony which hospital to go to. She gave him directions, but before she could push him out the door, he gave her a quick kiss on the cheek and a hug.

On the drive back to New York, he wondered what had happened to Peter. Not even thinking about his phone, he just worried about Angela all the more.

"Thank you, God, for giving Angela someone to look after her and protect her when I was too stupid to do so myself." Tony wasn't mad at Angela for finding someone else. He was mad at himself for not coming back to her when he should have.

He made it to the hospital two hours later and spent about fifteen minutes trying to find a parking space. Once he parked, he sat in the car for a minute praying Angela would understand him being there and hoping she'd let him be her shoulder to cry on.


	14. Chapter 14

"Where are we, Peter?" Angela, dressed in her matted hair, jeans and mismatched shoes, asked as they walked through door of the "The Pantry" Bakery on the corner of Route 1 in Fairfield.

"You know where." He said taking her arm as he kept trying to make sure his hospital gown stayed closed in the back while holding on to his IV bag's pole. He smiled as he lead her to one of the tables in the corner.

Taking a seat, facing the bakery she looked around the room. "Is this that little. . ."

"Yes, where we had sugar cookies and a few glasses of milk about. . ."

"May 8, 1990."

"I'm impressed."

"That's a hard day not to remember."

"I know."

A little bell over the front door rang and they both turned their heads to face it. A tall lean man in his late thirties escorted a blonde haired, brown eyed woman to a table a few down from them.

"Who would have thought?" Angela asked looking at the woman in the moss green dress, who seemed to be holding back a dam of tears.

"I never would have "thunk" it." Peter said smiling at his younger counterpart.

"Do you think they would have believed that things would have ended up the way they have?"

"No way in heck." Peter said, winking at the tired woman next to him.

"You know you reminded me how to smile that night."

"I did have that going for me, didn't I?"

"Yeah, and that was about all." Angela smiled. "So tell me Pete, of all places to pick on your last night alive, why did you pick this silly bakery?"

"Well, Sweet Angela. . .because I thought it might be romantic to have our last date be in the same place we had our first."

"Twisted but sweet." Angela smiled not knowing what to think.

"I figured if I could make you smile here, it might keep the smile on your face for a while until. . ."

"Until what?" She could tell there was some surprise up his sleeve but she was having too much fun in the moment.

"Until he gets here."

"Who gets here?" She looked out the window of the bakery only to see a thick fog blanketing the street.

"That my dear, I can't tell you." Peter looked up at the TV screen on the wall. It seemed to be broadcasting a security camera's video feed. The time on it read 10:05am. The camera was following a green compact car around as it was trying to find a parking space. "I think it's about time to go."

The fun of the moment seemed to disappear all at once and Angela's smile faded as she realized he was not talking about the two of them leaving together.

"Peter, how am I going to do this? Live my life without you?"

"You'll manage." He said with a toothy grin.

"Manage? I'm going to fall pieces. If that's your idea of managing, you aren't the business man I thought you were."

"I'm not talking business, Angela. I'm talking to you about what you've been saying to me for the last twelve years. You'll get through this and it will be easier than you've ever thought possible. Come on, be honest with me. I know I've never completely owned your heart. And Sweet Angela, despite your good looks and awesome tuna fish sandwiches you've never completely owned mine either. We've been a couple in love with two completely different people. What a foursome. Me, you, Charlotte and Tony. When all is said and done, we've been friends helping each other, holding on to each other's hearts until they can be returned to their rightful owners.

"You keep pushing me to Tony. Telling me that after all these years he still has feelings for me. How can you be so sure? And even if it were true, how can I face him? After all this time, I wouldn't know what to say. I don't understand how you can think he'd even want to be with me?"

"Search your heart Angela. You'll need him now and he's always needed you. You both have a connection to each other that time can not erase. No matter how hard you try to deny it. And before I forget. They're in your medicine cabinet."

"What are you talking about?"

"Just trust me. You'll know when the time is right." Peter looked up at the monitor as the car on the screen parked and a man in his late fifties exited from it. "I think it's time."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." He smiled and then leaned in and kissed her cheek.

Angela closed her eyes as she felt the coldness of his pale lips against her face. They lingered there for a moment. As they did, a warmth in them emerged and his cheek, which she was now holding, became smooth. Slowly, she opened her eyes and as she did she saw the hue of his face changing from a jaundiced yellow to a soft tan. The rosy-ness of his cheeks returned. The gray and balding patches of his head were now replaced with a full head of brown wavy hair. His eyes were soft with no lines or wrinkles anywhere in sight. The hospital gown he was wearing was replaced with a soft white button up shirt and white slacks.

She smiled as the Peter of years gone by sat in front of her and she starred as she tried to replace her long memories of the cancer stricken Peter with this happy, healthy one.

But as she starred out of the corner of her eye, she saw some movement coming from through the fog just outside the bakery window. A large grin came to her own face as she saw a curly brown haired woman, all of about five foot three standing with a little girl who was almost the perfect combination of her parents.

"I think you're ride is here." Angela said turning to look at Peter again.

Before Peter turned to see who Angela was talking about, he whispered in her ear. "Just know that I'm happy for you and that I want you to be happy for me, too. No more tears okay?"

"Promise." She whispered.

"Oh wait, something else I almost forgot." He rose from his chair and pulled something out of his pocket. He took her hand and placed a small velvet heart shaped box in the palm of it.

Flipping open the box, she found a small locket on the inside. As she opened it, she found a small heart on the right side with a pulsating light that made it look as if the heart were beating. On the left was an inscription that read, "I've only been keeping it safe." He took the locket and helped her put it on.

Leaning down again, he softly kissed her lips. "Goodbye, Sweet Angela."

In his perfect state, it seemed as if he was almost running toward the door. As Peter opened it, the woman let the little girl down and both of them ran into his waiting arms. Angela instantly recognized them from the picture Peter kept on his desk. In a gesture of gratitude, the woman blew Angela a kiss and mouthed the words, "Thank you!" Peter lifted the little girl in his arms and the threesome waved to Angela as they disappeared in the fog outside.

As the door finished closing behind him, the little bell above it rang and wouldn't stop ringing. It continued until it became a steady ring, one of panic and alarm. Angela put her hand on the locket and opened her eyes once again. She awoke to the blaring alarm of the heart monitor, which was now synchronizing itself with the ringing in her head.

"Goodbye Peter" She whispered, as she raised her head to looked at his breathless body laying on the bed next to her, still holding on to the locket in her hand.


	15. Chapter 15

Angela pulled up the railing of the bed and reached down to caressed his cheek on last time. As she brushed his still warm lips with her thumb, a smile came to her face as she remembered what he truly looked like now. Even though his spirit was gone, she felt as if being reunited with Charlotte and Anne had restored him some how. Body and Soul.

"You ready to go now, Mom?" Jonathan asked as the nurses came in to wheel Peter downstairs.

"Yes, Sweetheart." She took her son's arm and paused at the door before walking out. "And Peter. . . no more tears. I promise." She blew a kiss as she turned the corner.

It wasn't until she left the room, that she realized it was really over. Her time with Peter, her time of putting on a brave face for friends and family when they asked how grave his condition was and her time of hiding behind the walls that he had helped to build.

It was a freeing moment and yet one filled with regret. She wanted to be at peace, knowing that he had given her his blessing to move on with her life. But that freedom also came at a price. One of struggle, of renewed questions, frustrations and old memories of the past.

It was only a few short steps down the hallway to the ICU waiting room. Jonathan started to steer her toward the long hallway to the elevators, but Angela's mind was elsewhere.

"Do you mind if I take a moment to myself, Sweetheart? I'm not really ready to go home yet."

"I don't mind." He let go of her waist and quietly watched as she made her way over to the wall of windows that looked out over the city. "All the people down there, I wonder if they know. . . "

"Know what Mom?"

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking of something Peter said yesterday."

"Oh. . .listen, Mom. I hate to do this right now, but I haven't been able to get through to someone I've been trying to call all morning. Would you mind if I left you alone for a few minutes? Are you going to be okay?"

"I'll be fine here. It's not like I have anything. . .else to do now." The words left her lips before she had a chance to think about them. They stayed hanging in the air for a moment until Jonathan touched her elbow.

"I'll be right back, Mom. I promise."

She watched as her son started down the same white hallway she was facing. His thin frame grew smaller and smaller until he finally seemed to disappear behind the sliding glass doors in the distance. Finally left alone, she pulled out the locket and held it in her hands as she turned towards the window again.

_______________

Tony got out of the car and walked up to the entrance. As he approached the receptionist at the desk, he asked, "Uh, hi. Could you tell me where I could find Peter Gerber's room?"

"He's in ICU sir, on the third floor." She gave him directions to the elevator and Peter's room number. He started down the hall to the elevator.

The elevator seemed to take forever as it reached the second and then third floor. As the doors opened, he took a step out as Jonathan was taking a step into the elevator to his left. Tony turned to look toward the elevator, but the doors closed before he could see who had entered it. Turning ahead, he found himself looking into in the middle of a long white hall with sliding doors at each end. Slowly, he started walking in the direction that led to the ICU waiting room.

The hall seemed to go on forever. Just then, the sliding doors slid open before Tony had reached them to reveal a blond woman standing in front of a row of windows directly in front of him. Her hair was a bit shorter than shoulder length and looked like it had been air dried without being combed through. Her shoes appeared to be mismatched and the yellow sweatshirt that looked older and faded, now appeared two sizes too big for a frame that just seemed a little shorter and more delicate than he remembered. Tony's heart sank. He stood still for a moment. Taking in a deep breath, he started walking slowly towards her.

Tony stopped about five feet from her. A tear slid down his face without him realizing.

"Angela?"

_________________________________

Angela took in a deep breath as she continued to daydream out the window.

"He'll be here soon." The words of the dream kept replaying in her mind. In the distance, she could hear steps coming up behind her, but she didn't have the will power to turn around. That was until she heard the voice.

"Angela?"

A tired grin came to her lips as she took in another deep breath. He was here, the man that Peter had said would be coming. The man whose love she had secretly carried around for all those years. There he was standing behind her and the weight of the world was on her shoulders. Yet as she turned, her smile became brighter. In that fleeting moment, her eyes met his and her burden was gone. In that one moment, all the regret and pain of the past had disappeared. She took two giant steps forward and fell into his arms.

"Tony."

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As he caught Angela in his arms, he knew. He knew that his shoulder would be the one she'd shed her tears on. He knew he would be her strength. Many moments passed as he held her close. He never wanted to let her go.

"It's okay, Angela. I'm here." Tony didn't know what else to say, but it seemed to be enough. The longer he held her in his arms, the tighter her grip became. Tony didn't care. When they finally loosened their grip on each other, Tony found himself still holding on to her slightly clumsy frame. So many minutes seemed to pass as they looked into each others eyes. Tony started to say I'm sorry, but she stopped him.

"Peter's. . ."

". . . gone"

She nodded, with glazed eyes.

Even after all the years of being apart, they could still finish each other's sentences. As the concern in his heart grew for her, Tony helped her over to a row of chairs and he took the seat next to her. He held her hands as tight as he could without hurting her.

"Tony, I'm so sorry for everything. I don't even know. . ."

"It's okay, Angela." He brought her hand up to his lips and tenderly kissed it. "I'm sorry, too," Tony said sincerely. He knew his heart wasn't in Iowa and it never had been.

Looking down a little awkwardly, Angela seemed to be battling a sea of emotions inside her. She was feeling remorse for a loved one now gone, but also the butterflies of a love rekindled. She hated herself for being happy, but in a strange way almost felt like Peter, Charlotte and Little Anne were cheering her on from the sidelines. As she fought her desire to gaze into Tony's eyes, she looked down and saw his cargo pant's pocket move.

"Tony. . ." she said pointing to the vibrating pocket. "I think something in your pocket's trying to get your attention."

"Oh, my phone." Tony said as he reached down and unbuttoned the flap to retrieve it from his pocket. He flipped it open and saw Jonathan's name and phone number on the Caller ID.

"Jonathan? You'll never guess where you caught me at?"

"Let me guess, you're sitting next to a pretty, although tired, blonde with mismatched shoes and blue jeans."

"That's incredible. How did you know that?"

"Because remember me? I'm the guy who's walking right toward you."

Tony got to his feet and watched the young man from the elevator make his way towards him. He had seen him regularly over the years, but with the birth of his daughters, traveling had become difficult and the visits were fewer and farther between. He had matured into the role of a father and Tony had missed so much of it. The thought of that pained him most of all. When he was within a few feet of him, Tony gathered his son up in his arms and hugged him tightly.

"It's been too long." He said embracing him in the "butterfly flutter."

"Yes, it has Pop."

"And Emma and the girls."

"Their great."

Tony stepped back for a moment and stood watching his son fawn over his delicate mother. He knew he was exactly where he needed to be.

"Mom, you look exhausted. How about I have Tony take you home? Maybe Emma and I will can meet up with you both tonight for dinner at Peter's favorite restaurant." Jonathan spoke the words before thinking about the implications. "I mean, if that's okay with you, Mom."

Tony stood looking at Angela, wondering if the words he wanted to hear so badly would escape her lips.

"DiFara's Pizzeria," she said smiling as she took Tony's hand in her own. "They have the best pizza in Brooklyn. We'll eat, we'll drink. . ."

"And we'll toast to Peter." Tony as he let himself get lost in her eyes.

The End. . . (or is it just the beginning?)

Look for Part 2: "Love Remains" coming to a monitor near you.

Chapter End Notes:

I want to thank BigWTBfan for putting up with me during the ride. I want her to know that I think she did a fabulous time the first time out. She's an awesome writer and I hope she continues to write. (And she'll kill me for telling you this, but all the Tony POV is her.) Love ya, Bekka!


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